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deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Gifts Of Chance

What were the chances
they would find themselves
in this strange city
staying in the same hotel?

Alone in the sauna
the door swings open
and there she is
towel wrapped;
the unmistakable red of her hair
and hypnotic blue eyes.

Two isolated souls
staring out the window
the recognition of a thumbnail photo
and a trail of words
providing the necessary
charge to remain
in company
of the impossibility
that their flesh
could be in such close quarters.

She unravels
the towel,
a tasteful print
clinging to
her exceptional body
never seen below the neck.

She eases down beside him
brushing against his bare leg
not a word spoken
just taking her rightful place.

* *   *

Inside the pool,
the chill of the calm water
draws them to each other

He has read her mind a thousand times
and she his.

Her hand inside his swimsuit
working him stiff;
his hands under the bikini top
and to her covered bottom
navigating the body
dictated by her fictions.

Lifting her to the edge,
her calves ripple the water
as he proceeds with a cautionary eye
on the entrance/exit to this public space;
propping one leg upon his shoulder
he carefully peels off the bikini bottom
tilting her to one side then the other.

He buries his face
between the wedge of her,
a firm grip on her smooth legs
as he ravishes her complete;
each moan spiking
through the silence
of the pool area
until she shudders;
his mouth
continues
while she pulls him
deeper into the ambrosia
using his shoulders
for support.

*    *    *

Outside the pool,
he dries her thoroughly
allowing her a taste
in a flurry of probing kisses.

He assists
pulling her bottoms
back into their proper place.

Neither have any intention
of wasting these precious hours,
the only matter to discuss
will be whose room
will it continue.
Written by Tenderloin
Published
Author's Note
In response to the poem "Write Me" by PandoraUnleashed.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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